Truth or Consequences
by OzGeek
Summary: Tony and McGee dream of Abby in her Marilyn Monroe dress while on overnight guard duty. Written for the NFA Dreams of Marilyn challenge. Mild spoilers for Witch Hunt. Three chapters. Written before the season 7 episode of the same name so not related.
1. Chapter 1

**Truth or Consequences**

"Truth or consequences," Tony said again.

McGee heaved a weary sigh. Like a bad smell, this game seemed to persist no matter how hard he tried to dispel it. It was all pointless, anyhow. The sad fact was that they had worked together for so long now that there was simply nothing acutely embarrassing, tragically neurotic or even mildly disturbing that they didn't already know about each other.

McGee shifted his back against the tree trunk that served as a backrest for both him and Tony and stared at the open grave that lay before them. This wasn't the first time they had ended up spending the night guarding a gravesite. Quite frankly, he couldn't see why they were needed at all. Who was going to sneak over in the middle of the night just to dig out the skeletal remains and personal effects of some long dead petty officer? There was a neat little border of yellow tape to stop them, why did they also need a couple of guards?

Well, apparently, they did. It would all be over in the morning. He could make it. He could even stand this game so long as Tony didn't ask about …

"Abby."

A grimace spasmed across McGee's face, a fact the moonless night's pervading darkness managed to shield from Tony's eyes, greedy for just such a reaction. McGee sighed again, pulled his knees up to his chest and rubbed the tips of his fingers across his forehead. He was tired, too tired for this game. Unfortunately, all indications were that he had hours more to go. His hand dropped from his forehead and scraped across the surface of the two blankets lying beside them on the ground. He yearned for their caress yet they had both agreed that that staying cold was the best chance they had of staying awake.

"How often do you dream about her in that Marilyn Monroe outfit."

McGee's eyes squeezed shut in reflexive embarrassment: how many indeed? He fought to prize them open again. "A couple," he hedged finally.

"You're fading, Probie," Tony warned, "stay with me."

"I'm fine," McGee mumbled lazily.

"Tell me about the dreams," Tony threatened. He lowered his tone dramatically. "Or face the consequences."

McGee smiled dreamily in the security of the darkness. Comforting warmth cocooned him and he drew a deep contented breath. He looked over at the open grave they were guarding, the roughly hewn edge barely discernable in the gloomy light. He wondered again about the logic behind guarding a hole in the ground. Surely a few well placed electronic sensors and infrared cameras would do the job and he and Tony could get some well-earned sleep. Or maybe Abby, currently straddling the gravesite in her Marilyn Monroe outfit complete with peroxide wig and vibrant red lipstick, could act as sentry.

He did a double take: "Abby."

"Yes, McGee," said Abby in an unusually husky, sultry voice.

McGee swallowed dryly. "What are you doing here?"

Abby smiled as her white pleated skirt billowed around her, powered by some ferocious updraft supplied by the gravesite. McGee reasoned the petty officer must have a great view, or a great set of lungs for a pile of bones. She made a half-hearted attempt to tame the dress but soon gave up and simply let the skirt rise to show the worlds smallest G-string with a tiny skull and cross bones printed on it.

McGee's heart rate increased as his eyes roamed over the soft contours of her body taking in her delicately rounded shoulders and perky breasts – a perfect handful, he knew. Abby smiled demurely, lowering her eyes to direct his gaze to her breasts. Not that she really needed to, his eyes never strayed long from those glorious mounds but now he could see the nipples standing straight up, straining against the flimsy material just as they had that night in the lab. Then, inexplicably, the entire dress blew off leaving Abby standing almost naked hovering above the gravesite.

"Ever done it in a grave, Timmy?" asked Abby.

"Ahh, no - but I'm sure you have."

"Come," Abby invited.

McGee felt his entire body convulse with desire. He tried to move but couldn't. Something was stopping him – no someone. Abby was so close he could almost touch her. Struggling frantically, he flailed his limbs trying to break free. Abby was still there, still waiting for him and Tony was pulling him back.

"Tony," he complained. "No, Tony. Tony!"

"Hey!"

Abby evaporated to be replaced by a stubble ridden Tony face. Harsh cold night air bit his skin. Groggily, he tried to get his bearings. He was lying on a leaf-mulch bed covered in one of the warm woollen blankets. Someone was sitting beside him – and it wasn't Abby.

"Tony?"

"Look I don't mind you having erotic dreams while you're meant to be guarding a gravesite with me," Tony snapped, "but I'll thank you leave me out of them."

"What makes you think…"

"Either you were trying to scratch an itch on your back or that writhing was something more. It had better have been something more: you still owe me a truth."

McGee gave up. He was too sleepy to argue.

"It's your fault," he said. "You put her into my head."

"Who?"

"Abby. "

"Abby?"

"… in that dress."

"I'll do you a deal, Probie," said Tony. "Tell me the dream and I won't tell Gibbs you slept on duty."


	2. Tony's turn

**Chapter 2**

McGee recounted his dream. As the words flowed, Tony looked towards the open grave: cold, dark, deserted with just a hint of Abby in her Marilyn Monroe dress straddling the gravesite just as McGee had described. No, not described – foretold.

Tony's jaw dropped slightly. She looked so much better than he remembered from that Halloween night in the lab. Her white dress billowed around her, her blond curly hair shone somehow in the darkened night and she pouted that pout he remembered so well from The Seven Year Itch. Then her skirt slowly peeled away from her body revealing tattoos Tony had never seen before her on upper thigh, and, as she turned slowly, across her stomach and around her back.

"Abs?"

"Come to me," Abby crooned in her Marilyn voice.

Suddenly there was a hand around her waist. Wait, he knew that hand – that was a Probie hand. McGee was with Abby and she was running her hands over his body.

"Hey, McGroper," Tony complained. "Get out of my dream."

"It's my dream, Tony," McGee pointed out. "You came in and took over."

"I was the one who came up with the whole 'Abby in a Marilyn Monroe outfit' in the first place," said Tony defensively. "Doesn't that give me some kind of dream rights?"

"Actually Abby came up with the 'Abby in the Marilyn Monroe outfit' idea," said McGee practically.

"You've had your Abby dream," Tony complained. "It's my turn."

"Boys, boys," said Abby sweetly, "you can both have Abby in the Marilyn Monroe dress dreams."

Tony and McGee exchanged glances.

"Ménage a trios?" McGee queried.

"It's a big grave," Abby answered, smiling her enormous bright red lips.

"Come on, Tony," McGee urged. "It's going to be a long night; we might as well enjoy it."

Tony considered his options. Abby: good, McGee too: not so good. Still it would make great fodder for the next truth or consequences game, especially if Gibbs was around. He'd never really had a chance with Abby and, let's face it, nothing about McGee was enough to make him pass up the chance to have Abby in that dress. Besides, it wouldn't be long before Abby realised that it should just be the two of them and McGee would get pushed out of the grave to sit on the sideline where he belonged.

"OK, Probie," he said happily, "let's get naked in that grave."

"Tony!" called McGee's distant voice in a tone totally out of character with his suggestive actions.

"What?"

"Tony, wake up!"

Tony started awake. "What! I wasn't sleeping!" As he became more aware, he found he was lying on the damp ground with a blanket over him.

"You'd better have been asleep," said McGee warningly, "'cause I'm not getting naked in that grave with you."

"OK, OK – I was sleeping. I hope. Abby wasn't there either?"

"No Tony – no Abby. What do you mean either? What, there were three of us?!"

"It's a big grave," said Tony sheepishly.

"Yeah but…Tony."

"I know, I know. It's late. We're never going to make it through this night with both of us awake. Let's just agree to sleep in turns."

"Ok, me first."

"No way, it's my turn."

"You just had a sleep!"

"So did you."

"But you did it the last time."

"That one doesn't count because you were in there too."

"That doesn't even make sense."

"Well it did when I thought of it."

They paused, both panting in the dark.

"Ok," said Tony finally, "no sleeping … truth or consequences."


	3. Dream girl

**Chapter 3**

Abby pulled up at the address Ziva had given her. It certainly looked quiet: so dark and still. 'You can't miss them', Ziva had said, 'they are the ones sitting around the open grave.'

It was an opportunity too good to pass up: her two favourite guys AND a gravesite! She just had to visit, even if it was 4am.

Abby looked down at her high heeled shoes uncertainly. They might have matched her Marilyn Monroe outfit but now she had left the party, maybe she should change into something more comfortable. Then again, when had she ever worn sensible shoes? She wasn't Ziva.

Resolved to wear her matching shoes, she grabbed her handbag from the passenger seat and climbed out of her car. As she stood up, the cold air hit her causing her to retreat to the car and extract her warm coat. Then she paused. Ziva said they had a couple of warm blankets with them – maybe she could score a snuggle with one or the other or, if she was lucky, both. She left the coat and set out to stalk across the damp grass guided only by the feeble light of her skull-motif flashlight.

As she rounded the side of the building, Abby stopped short, her heels sinking slowly into the moist earth. She could dimly see the taped off area but the boys were nowhere in sight. She ran her light over the ground in a systematic search pattern.

"No!" she cried as her beam illuminated two bodies splayed across the ground next to a tree at the graveside.

Leaving her shoes firmly planted in the soil, Abby sprinted across the lawn while simultaneously wrestling her phone from her handbag, balancing her flashlight and reciting 'Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God'. As she drew nearer a strange sound began to permeate her senses. Despite her haste, she slowed a little to allow the noise to register. Little by little, she ground to halt in stunned amazement, her cell still poised for action – the sound was snoring.

Standing across the open grave from Tony and McGee, she narrowed her eyes. Here she was scared to death and now freezing cold and they were sleeping on the job! Her momentary anger dissolved as she looked at them lying together so peacefully. Covered in matching warm blankets and both wearing beatific smiles, the two were lying flat on their backs snoring in unison with their arms intertwined like a newly married couple.

Abby looked down at her cell in her hand, still ready to go and did the only reasonable thing she could under the circumstances: she shone her flashlight on them with one hand and took their photo with the other.

Disturbed by the light, the two bodies stirred.

"Hey, sleepy heads," she crooned tucking her phone back into her handbag, "you have a visitor."

McGee and Tony sat straight up and stared at her. She was used to men staring at her in this particular dress but usually it was with at least a tinge of lust. These two looked – freaked out.

"What? Something in my teeth?"

McGee reached over and grabbed Tony's arm. "Tony," he wavered.

"You're holding my wrist," said Tony simply.

"Sorry," McGee removed his hand hastily.

"No," said Tony urgently, "keep it there, it makes me think I'm awake."

"You are awake," said Abby.

"Suuuuuure," said Tony.

"and you're standing there in a Marilyn Monroe outfit," added McGee, "just waiting for one of us to join you in that grave."

"Only if it's your dream," Tony corrected him. "If it's mine then both of us get to climb in. I'm not as selfish as you."

"You guys are really, really sleep deprived," said Abby. "And I'm cold." She leapt over the gaping hole, lowered herself to the ground and wriggled between them, breaking McGee's death grip on Tony's arm. Then she stole half a blanket from each of them. "I came to keep you company."

Tony and McGee continued to stare at her.

"Will you two quit doing that?"

"It's, it's just that…" McGee began.

" … you're in that dress..," said Tony.

"… and, and, you're here," McGee finished.

Abby frowned at McGee then at Tony. "So what do you guys usually do on guard duty besides sleeping together, holding hands and finishing each others sentences?"

"Ahhhh," McGee started reluctantly, "we play games."

"Oh great!" Abby enthused. "My turn first – truth or consequences."

-----------------------------------------------------The End-----------------------------------------------------------


End file.
